Fatal Flaw (A Watty Awards entry) *Currently being edited and improved*

Hi! I really hope you like this! Please, please, please vote, comment, fan! This is an entry for a contest, and I really want to win! This has been written in a hurry so please excuse some of the choices of words. However, it doesn't look rushed because I'm in a hurry.It's really supposed to be like that. You'll understand when you read it :) It's PG because, well, it has a dark theme.

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There are moments when one's life has been changed forever. Sometimes, these moments are thought to be insignificant, an annoying distraction to real life. It is only until later that one has realized a great alteration has been made.

This point in my life is nothing like that. It crashes on me like a wave forcing me under the water. It fills my ears and pulls me into its arms. I can't breathe; I can't move. I can't find the strength to fight against it. My vision turns blurry. Everything slowly goes black.

It seems as if I'm going to die.

I smile at the thought. Finally, I can escape the mercilessness and cruelty I experienced and the hubris and ruthlessness that brought her to death.

                                                                              ~o~

I was walking home from Berkeley College. My arms were weighed down by numerous books, and I was staggering to keep them in my grasp. The sun's heat beat down on me, and sweat soaked my shirt. I contemplated getting a smoothie, but it was soon forgotten. My eyes had seen something much more interesting than a cold beverage.

Cops were everywhere. All held guns readily and stared at a figure standing in the middle of the street. I moved to the left to get further away from the firearms then pushed my way towards the front of the crowd. After much exclaims of indignation were said and heard, I saw what the whole commotion was about.

A girl was standing in the big space with her thin legs shaking so hard, she could barely stand. Her big eyes were peeking out from behind black bangs kept too long. Her lips quivered, and she was trembling in fear.

Her mother screamed her name; the wind blew and carried her voice to the child. I could see the lips form the word mama. The woman, sobbing, cried out for her child again and, holding her arms out, ran towards her daughter. Policemen held her back, and she fought as hard as she could but in vain.

Suddenly, unable to cope with what was happening, she fainted in their arms. My heart moved with compassion and pity. These feelings turned to fright and terror as my eyes caught sight of who was beside her.

It was a man. A scar ran across his eye and made it close slightly. His muscles were huge and made him bigger than he already was. A crazed look was in his dark eyes, and a tattoo of a snake extended from the top of his bald head to his thick neck.

His very sight caused fear to blossom in my heart. It wasn't so much the picture of him, though, that caused me to tremble, but the gun he was holding to the head of the little girl.

“Make one move, and I'll shoot!” the giant bellowed.

The cops responded by huddling together. Why were they doing that? Now was not the time to be talking! This little girl was scared out of her mind. There's no time to waste! The fear in me disappeared and was replaced by frustration and outrage. These fools didn't know what the heck they were doing, and her fate was in their hands.

I was going to take it from them.

Immediately, I ran towards the child. The man was looking at the cops in front of him. He wouldn't be expecting a college boy rescuing the helpless kid. My feet hit the pavement hard, and the wind blew in my face. 'Eye of the Tiger' was playing in my head, and I thought of the recognition I would get. I would be famous; they would call me a hero.

I was anything but.

Everything seemed to pass so quickly, yet every moment was forever imprinted in my mind. The man turned his head and saw me. He yelled out a warning, but I didn't stop. I was going to save this girl no matter what. Determined, I continued on and held my arms out to scoop the girl up. Her eyes seemed to plead for my help. This only made me run harder.

I only stopped when the gunshots were heard.

Shocked, I stared at the body in front of me. I knelt down and clutched her. She wasn't asking for my help, I realized. She was trying to tell me to stop. I shook her. Maybe she was just sleeping or playing a prank on everyone. I caught sight of her dull green eyes then. The light had gone out of them, and they stared unseeingly at me.

Guilt, anger and utter despair coursed through me. I had done this. I had ended the life of this child. I was to blame. Tears streamed from my eyes as I thought of the life this girl could have lived.

What came after was unclear. A policeman brought me somewhere and spoke to me while a medic came over and worked on my arm. I had apparently been shot in the crossfire. I couldn't feel it.

There's a memory of washing the blood off my hands; its origin unknown. Another memory was of being driven in a police car. Yet another of being hugged so tightly, I couldn't breathe. Next thing I knew, I was laying on my bed. I thought of the girl's family and how they must have been feeling. They probably thought I should have died instead. An idea sparked in my mind.

Flying out of the house, I grabbed my bike and rode as hard as I could. Soon, I was on the Brooklyn bridge. Cars passed behind me. Drivers laid on the horn similar to the manner the girl did on the street, but I ignored them the same way I did the kidnapper.

He was a murderer now because of me. He was probably facing years of imprisonment and disgust. I crumpled and held my knees to my chest. More lives destroyed; another family torn apart.

I stayed like that for what seemed like hours. My back was hurting, and my legs were cramping. I didn't mind them. They were insignificant compared to what I was feeling inside. It felt like something was ripping my insides to shreds but so much worse.

The tears spilled freely from my eyes just as it had been ever since I allowed arrogance to take the life of a child. My shoulders shook as I sobbed and cried out in pain. It washed over me and became everything I knew.

After a few moments, I stood up and stared down at the water crashing against the tower protruding from it. I hesitated, but the picture of the little girl's body surrounded by a puddle of her blood flashed in my mind. It brought another wave of guilt that wracked my whole body. My chest ached so much. I couldn't handle the gravity of what I had done.

I jumped into the raging river with only one thing in my mind.

Her name was Chloe.

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I really hope you liked this! If you did, please go to the link on the comments place and comment (Wow, that seems redundant.) my username, dreamernow31. It's for a contest. Each comment with my username on it is equal to one vote. Please support me! I really want to win!

Please comment, vote, fan!!!!